


Wings

by Sonora



Series: Love Bites 'verse [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Bottom Chuck Hansen, Cock Warming, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Partial Mind Control, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Transformation, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonora/pseuds/Sonora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, Chuck got a night of mind-blowing sex from Raleigh Becket, but things have been a little off since then.</p><p>(Or the one where Raleigh bites Chuck and Chuck may or may not be turning into an incubus too, and Herc does not handle it well, until he does.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooooo... yes, Chuck's a little underage here. I don't dwell on it. Also, I stand by my position that if Chuck's old enough to pilot a jaeger, he's old enough to have sex. 
> 
> I have no idea, people. I just... I have no idea. 
> 
> I've got about a billion of these rolling around in my head now, so if you want any pairing particularly... just let me know. Or tell me to stop. Stopping now might be better.

Sleeping with Raleigh Becket.

That was his mistake.

Sleeping with Raleigh motherfucking Becket.

Not that Chuck regrets it. Dad can be as pissed as he wants that his son’s had sex, but hell, he’s almost sixteen and they’re letting him pilot the most advanced war machine mankind has ever built. If he wants to get laid once in a while, well, that’s his business.

“Why Raleigh Becket?” Dad just had to ask, after their first drift together, when he got a full inner-eyeful of his baby boy, balls deep in the younger half of Gipsy Danger’s team. “What were you thinking?”

“What? He’s hot!”

“He’s... he’s older than you!”

“So? I don’t know if you noticed, Dad, but everyone’s older than me. You want me screwing a primary school kid?”

That had been the wrong thing to say. Not that they’d fought about it. Dad had just kind of gone... quiet. Didn’t even get mad. Just got quiet. Almost thoughtful. 

It had been weird.

But maybe - _maybe_ \- Dad was right that there was some kind of problem there, because Chuck hasn’t felt good since, and every day, it seems to be getting worse.

It started with smell. 

It’s rainy season right now, which is normally bollocks, but after the snow up in Alaska, it’s pretty nice. Except it stinks. Not even the state-of-the-art skin of the Sydney Shatterdome can really lock out that smell of tropical rot that permeates everything this time of year. Chuck’s noticed it before, of course, but it’s really intense now.

And it’s not just that. It’s the oil soaked into the floor of the hangers, the ozone put off by the transformer bank in the basement, the smell of food frying in old grease in the mess hall, and _people_.

Chuck has never noticed how different people smell. Sweet, musky, warm, sick... he doesn’t even have words to describe all the different smells he’s getting off people. It all smells good, though. Like food, almost.

Which sucks, and is kind of weird, because food has stopped smelling right. Mostly, it just all smells gross. Like it’s not edible at all. His stomach aches when he eats. It’s a serious problem, because it’s leaving him all weak and shaky and feverish and not at all as strong as he needs to be to keep up with Dad. 

He woke up hungry this morning - hungry, after a long night of very strange dreams about Raleigh, which just have to be a result of being so hungry, right? It was all he could do, to get anything down at breakfast, and half an hour later, he threw it all up again. Chuck ignored Dad’s knocks at the bathroom door and just stared at himself in the mirror. He’s getting paler, his stupid freckles becoming more apparent, his hair brighter, more of an auburn now than the previous muddy red. He noticed his acne was going away, thank fuck, so maybe that’s it. 

Still.

Dad decided they had to go to the clinic.

So here they fucking are.

“Your vitals look normal, Ranger Hansen,” the doctor says as she folds the blood pressure cuff back into its little shelf - and she’s kind of cute, in a nerdy girl kind of way, hair swept back in a bun and glasses perched on her nose, the smell of her skin sweet and needy. “You did just come out of a very different climate. It could be just be your body adjusting.”

“Really?” Chuck asks, and picks at his t-shirt. Fuck, he’s sweating. She smells really good. “But why can’t I eat?”

She smiles at him, and gets one of those tongue depressors and the light scope thing. “Might be a stomach bug. Or your gut readjusting to the bacteria?”

“Bacteria?” he asks.

“Open up,” she tells him.

Chuck tries. He tries to be good, do what the doctor says, but he can’t help himself. She’s so close and she smells so good... and...

And he kisses her.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, Chuck doesn’t, until she moans, a needy little sound, some scent pouring off of her that has to be arousal, somehow. Recoiling from it, Chuck pulls back, heart pounding loud in his ears. Shit. Shit, he just kissed a doctor, and she’s going to tell Dad and he’s going to be in all kinds of trouble, and...

Shit.

She’s staring at him. “And what was that, Ranger?”

“Umm...” he flounders, and then decides fuck it, he’ll go out like a man. “What was what?”

Her face clouds, her mouth goes slack Just for a moment.

“Okay, Ranger Hansen, please open your mouth for me.”

He blinks. What? “Why? So you can kiss me?” he blurts out, confused by her apparent lack concern over what just happened.

She cocks her head, expression considering. “Are you sexually active?”

“I’ve had sex,” he tells her, trying not to sound smug. 

“Hmm.”

And she orders him some bloodwork.

“What’d the doc say?” Herc asks, on their way to lunch afterward.

“Raleigh Becket gave me a fuckin’ STD,” he grumbles.

Chuck throws up lunch, too. Dad cancels their sim training session for the afternoon, and marches him back to their room, fluffs up a couple pillows for him on the couch and pushes him down into it. He doesn’t even attempt to protest. Especially not when Dad leans over him, tucking a blanket around his legs and placing the remote in his lap.

Dad smells...

Chuck watches Top Gear re-runs for the rest of the afternoon.

By dinnertime, he’s almost too weak to move, absolutely famished, but he can’t swallow even a spoonful of the soup Dad brings him from the mess. Chuck almost breaks down in tears from the frustration of it all, but crying in front of his dad is not something he’s prepared to do. 

Instead, he finds the strength to storm off into his room - Dad lets him have the bedroom in the suite they share, uses the spare bunk on the wall in the main living area instead - and slam the door.

He doesn’t sleep well. It’s too hot, so he strips off all his clothes, but it doesn’t help. Hunger that’s beyond hunger gnaws at him. His mind wanders through the same bizarrely explicit dreams he was having last night, stuff he can’t understand at all. Eventually, Chuck can’t pretend to sleep anymore, and heads back out into the main room, some little voice in the back of his head whispering to him, _find dad, dad will make it better..._

Dad’s already gone to bed though, laying flat out on his back, snoring a little in the quiet dark of their room. Normally, the snoring drives Chuck straight up the wall, but right now? It’s the most comforting sound in the world.

Chuck stands by the bed, unsteady, unsure of himself, until finally, feeling like a little kid, he crawls under the covers, next to his daddy. There’s not much space in the single, but he manages to fit himself in, curled in the small hole between Dad and the wall. It’s not comfortable at all, but all Dad’s got on are his boxers right now, and something about the scent of all that warm skin and firm muscle soothes whatever it is in Chuck that’s gone so wrong.

Before Chuck can drift off to sleep, he realizes that Dad’s a little too firm.

That Dad’s hard, erection practically throbbing against his back.

Chuck turns over, meaning to climb out and go back to his own bed - because seriously, this is just weird - but Dad’s arms close around him, Dad’s lips graze his ear, kissing his neck gently, and holy shit, Dad’s hips are sort of rolling into him, aren’t they?

That wonderful scent, that strong, reassuring, masculine scent, is everywhere now, an Chuck breathes it in deep. He can feel his own body responding, cock filling and pressing back, the fever from earlier rising in that heavy place behind his eyes. Dad’s hot through the thin fabric of his boxers. 

It’s wonderful. And Chuck, overwhelmed with some foreign impulse, can’t stop himself.

“Don’t wake up,” he murmurs quietly to Dad, hoping to hell the old man listens to him for once, and slips a hand down between them.

This is something Chuck didn’t get to do with Raleigh, and it’s just curiosity, that’s all it can be. But it’s wonderful, truly lovely, and Chuck realizes he never realized how soothing it is to be connected to another person like this. Jacking his dad off, feeling the waves of pleasure rolling back to him through the drift - stronger than it has been before, much stronger - really makes him feel whole, in some odd way. And it reminds him most of back when he was little and his daddy was his hero and...

Daddy moans when he comes, still asleep, pearly white fluid pouring out across his belly. It’s all over Chuck’s hand, and Chuck brings it up from under the covers, staring at it. It’s the same stuff that made him, Chuck realizes, with what little bit of his brain is still working. This is where he came from. And there’s something just so wrong about it all that Chuck can’t help himself.

He licks a strip up his own hand, cleaning the cum off it. The flavor of it explodes on his tongue, unlike anything he’s ever tasted before. The best thing he’s ever eaten. Salty, delicious... perfect.

He ends up lapping all of it up - first off his hand, then off Daddy’s belly directly. Daddy moans a little as he does it, but Chuck holds him still, face burning, embarrassment warring with sheer _need_ in his gut as he licks Daddy clean. 

The afterglow of his daddy’s orgasm lingers for a while, and Chuck just lays there and basks in it. Daddy holds him close, too, cuddles him in sleep, murmuring sleepy little words to him, and for the first time in a long time, everything is exactly as it should be. 

There’s nothing more Chuck would like than to stay right here, right in his daddy’s arms, where everything feels perfect. But he knows that won’t go over well at all, that Daddy won’t like that one bit, and so, reluctantly, he heads back to his own room.

He doesn’t dream.

Dad doesn’t say a thing about it in the morning, like he doesn’t remember at all. But even he seems happier over breakfast, and Chuck figures, no harm, no foul.

Chuck feels great for the rest of the day. Not hungry at all, even though he just picks at his food and they’ve got three hours of Kwoon time that afternoon. 

But that night, he wakes up with the same screaming _need_ in his chest.

And this time, Chuck knows what to do.

+++++

It’s good for a few nights, crawling in next to his daddy, jerking him off, cleaning him up. Chuck doesn’t know why it makes him feel better, just that it does, and that he needs it. 

It’s not everything he needs, though, and that’s what scares him.

Chuck doesn’t want Dad to be asleep. He wants Dad to be awake, watching him with big soft eyes as he sucks him off - on the third night, Chuck gets the fantasy of Dad’s cock in his mouth, all the way, getting to suckle all that sweet cum right out of him, hot from his body, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it. He wants Dad to hold him down and fuck him hard. He wants to pin Dad’s arms above his head and fuck into him, wants to see him come on nothing more than his little boy’s cock. 

And Chuck wants his daddy to hold him afterward, to wrap him up and let their skins touch everywhere they can. Wants Daddy to kiss him and touch him like he loves him more than anything in the world. He wants Daddy to want him back...

Which is why he can’t say anything. He hasn’t been Daddy’s little boy in a long, long time.

But it’s really hard to hold himself back. He wants to be that again. Wants to show Daddy how good a son he would be. It’s difficult to wear clothes in the room, when he just wants his daddy’s hands on his bare skin. Hard to sit on the other end of the sofa or the other side of the table, when all he really wants to do is curl up in his daddy’s lap. It’s hard to listen to the shower running in the next room, knowing that Daddy’s in there, naked and probably hard - because Daddy always seems to be sporting at least a half-chub lately - and maybe touching himself and...

And Chuck can’t take this any more.

He’s a good boy. He’s a very, very good boy, and he needs his daddy.

Setting his homework aside - he’s been staring at the same page in his history book for ten minutes, unable to read anything, overwhelmed with the thought of Daddy naked in the shower, so fuck it - Chuck heads for the bathroom.

Daddy’s there, just getting out. He hasn’t dried off yet, and bloody hell, he’s amazing, perfect, that strong lean body of his completely on display, skin shining under its scattering of water droplets, drivesuit scars red from the heat of the shower.

“Chuck,” Daddy says.

But Chuck doesn’t want to hear it. Instead, he just surges forward, wrapping his arms around Daddy’s neck - standing up on his tip-toes to do so, cause he still hasn’t quite gotten into his last growth spurt yet - and kisses him hard.

For a moment, Daddy’s hands encircle his waist.

For a moment, Daddy kisses him back.

For a moment.

And then Daddy’s pushing him back again, and Chuck moans at the loss. 

“Chuck, what the hell...”

“I need you, Daddy,” Chuck whines, not sure where the words are coming from but knowing they’re true. “I’m hungry and I’m tired and I need you. I need to be your little boy.”

Daddy just stares at him, like he’s completely confused, and that’s ridiculous, because this is the easiest thing in the world. “Chuck, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you’re my son and...”

Chuck doesn’t know how to explain it, because he doesn’t really understand it himself, but he decides that maybe a demonstration would be best. So he reaches down and wraps a hand around Daddy’s cock, that nice big lovely thing that made him. 

Daddy jerks back like he’s been shocked, shoving him hard, and Chuck just crumples back against the narrow bathroom’s counter. The hunger’s getting worse now, beating at him, trying to get out. His back hurts and his face hurts and everything fucking _hurts_ , and he needs his daddy to make it better, only daddy can make it better, and...

“Holy shit.”

“What?” he sniffles, looking up.

Daddy nods at the mirror, and Chuck looks back over his shoulder at it.

He’s got wings.

A little set of bat wings, for lack of a better descriptor, lightly furred with peach fuzz the same color as his hair, the webbing between the little ribs pink and delicate, no bigger than his hands. He’s got a little tail in the same color, whip-thin, terminating in a weird little bulge. He brushes up his hair, where a little set of horns, no bigger than his thumb, have twisted out of his forehead. 

Daddy steps up behind him, and gently pushes up his lip to reveal elongated canines, like cat fangs. 

Cool.

“Chuck, we need to talk about this. This is not.. this is very bad.”

He smiles, and turns back into Daddy’s lovely bare body, pressing himself against all that strength. “This is good,” he says. “I’m cute, aren’t I? Don’t you like how I look?” 

Daddy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t let him go. “Cute? You like looking cute?”

“It’s vicious cute,” Chuck concedes, and smiles brighter. He doesn’t feel so sick anymore, and it doesn’t hurt, so it’s okay. It’ll be perfect, when his daddy lets his little boy make him feel good. “Please, daddy... I need you. I need your cock. Please let me suck you, daddy. I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Jesus... no. Chuck, no, we’re not doing that!”

“I’ve already done it, though. Every night this week. Haven’t I been better?” His tail swishes a bit on its own, curling around Daddy’s leg, and he smiles at his daddy up through his lashes. “Don’t you want your little boy to feel good?”

“Chuck, this isn’t okay,” Daddy sputters, clearly lost, and there’s no need for that, Chuck thinks. If Daddy would just let him do what he needs to do, everything would be perfect again. “It’s not _normal_.”

“I like being your little boy,” Chuck whispers into Dad’s shoulder.

Daddy sighs. “Chuck, you’ve sprouted wings. It’s not exactly... it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Don’t care. Like it. Like your cock. _Need_ your cock.”

“Chuck. I’m your father, you’re my son, we can’t...”

“I have to,” he replies plaintively, pushing out into the drift, hoping he can make Daddy understand, how badly he needs this, how _hungry_ he is...

Daddy lifts his chin a little. “Don’t do that,” he says sharply, and then, very carefully, kisses him. As if in apology. “Not to Daddy. Daddy will give you what you need. Be a good boy, and Daddy will give you what you need.”

Chuck sighs in relief, and nuzzles his daddy’s shoulder. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Such a good little boy,” Daddy murmurs, and lays his arms around Chuck’s hips. “C’mon, Charlie, wrap your legs around daddy’s waist. He’s gonna take you back to bed.”

Chuck sighs back, letting himself sink into his daddy’s hold, as he’s carried back to the bedroom. Daddy’s holding him. Daddy’s going to give him what he needs. “Thank you, Daddy,” he murmurs.

“Daddy does love you, baby boy,” Daddy replies gently, and sits down on the rumpled sheets, easing Chuck off his lap. “Now, Chuck...”

But it’s okay. From here, Chuck knows exactly what he needs to do, and he pounces at the chance. Gets right on top of Daddy, laughing, and wrestles him down flat on his back. Daddy grabs for him, catching a handful of hair, and Chuck yelps, looking up angrily.

“You said you were gonna let me,” he protests.

“Chuck,” Daddy says, and his eyes are big, scared.

“Shh,” Chuck says, and kisses the crease of Daddy’s thigh, inches from his big round balls, his redding, fattening cock. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

“Chuck, please...”

“I love your cock, Daddy,” he purrs, and licks up it, from base to tip. The musky scent is overpowering, wonderful, and the soft skin tastes just as lovely as he’s imagined it would. His little wings flap in pleasure, and he wiggles his arse, high up in the air. He feels _sexual_ , and it’s a heady feeling, indeed. “I love your cock so much. I love how it made me...”

“Chuck, Chuck ... I don’t wanna hurt you, baby, please...”

He shakes his head, and keeps licking. “You can’t hurt me, Daddy. You’d never hurt me, would you?”

“No, baby, but you’re so young and you’re my son and...”

“Aren’t I pretty, Daddy?” Chuck asks, and licks his hand, wrapping it back around his daddy’s cock as he glances up at him, smiling. “Didn’t you make me pretty?”

“This isn’t you...”

“It is me,” he insists, and goes back to licking the underside of his daddy’s cock. “And your little boy wants to show you how much he loves you.”

Daddy’s cock jumps, and Daddy groans. “Oh shit.”

“I love you,” Chuck purrs again, triumphant, jacking Daddy’s cock firmly now. “I just want my daddy to love me too...”

“Oh baby,” Daddy sighs, and slides a hand around to his cheek, and then up into his hair, “your daddy loves you so, so much.”

“So show me,” Chuck says, and takes his daddy’s cock deep into his mouth.

From there, it’s all downhill. Chuck nibbles and sucks and licks and twists, excited about this big new challenge he’s got, at finally getting to do this, taste his daddy fully on his tongue. It’s even better than he imagined, and while he wants to take his time with it, he can also feel his own need cresting high and hot in him, that thing that’s demanding to be satisfied, and he chases it. And sure, he knows that there’s something a little off about this, that something very important has changed, but he doesn’t fucking care, because this is amazing and right and perfect, and his father hasn’t said the word _love_ since Mum died, and if it takes him sprouting wings for that to happen, Chuck is more than okay with it.

He sucks, hollowing his cheeks, eyes closed, losing himself in the task at hand. 

“Oh Chuck, Chuck, I’m close, don’t, don’t...”

But Chuck doesn’t let Daddy push him off. Instead, he just takes Daddy as deep as he can, all the way to the root, and _sucks_.

Daddy’s thumbs hook around Chuck’s new little horns, and don’t let go as he comes deep, deep, deep in his little boy’s throat.

That feeling of rapture envelops Chuck, the most wonderful thing he’s ever felt, and he whines a little as Daddy goes soft, slipping from his mouth. “No, no...” he babbles, trying to hug on to Daddy’s thigh, and finally, Daddy gives in, laying down next to him.

“I’m going to make this okay Chuck, you hear me?” his father says softly, stroking his cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You’re going to be okay.”

Smiling, loopy from absorbing that magnificent orgasm, Chuck nods and smacks his lips. “I know, Daddy.”

“Good.” Daddy kisses his hair, and sits up again. 

“Daddy...”

“Shh. Daddy’s just going to phone somebody who can help you, alright? He’ll be right back.”

Chuck curls up right in Daddy’s spot, nose pressed to the sheets just awash in Daddy’s scent, and watches Daddy lean over the desk phone, dialing. He looks angry, and that’s silly. There’s not reason to be angry. Everything’s wonderful.

He yawns, and rubs his cheek on the pillows, eyes sliding shut. 

Everything’s perfect.

+++++

Raleigh’s still basking in the glow of the orgasm he took off a couple of Chrome Brutus’ techs, as he arrives back at their quarter. Sure, it’s not really cool to just go invisible and get two other people to fuck for his pleasure, but in his defense, Yancy said he needed more practice with it, both of the humans really needed to get laid, and everyone left happy. What’s the problem? He might have to seek them out again, they were both really great and might be up for something a little kinkier next time and

“Raleigh, dude,” Yancy calls to him, over from their phone, waving him over. His hand’s firmly down on the receiver. “Finally. Close the fucking door.”

“What’s up?” he asks, sauntering over. Raleigh drops down in one of their quarters’ chairs, pulling off his sneakers. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, umm, you know the other week, after graduation, when you let Chuck Hansen fuck you?”

Raleigh smirks. That had been a great night. A really, really great night. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Did you bite him, by chance?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know. Stuck on everything. Have some slutty Chuck.

Chuck’s exactly as bad as Yancy feared he would be, when they arrive in Sydney. 

“I am going to fucking kill you when this is over, you know that?”

It’s the first thing Herc says to them, when he meets them out on the airstrip behind the jaeger hangers, all business and sharp edges. He positively reeks of sex though, Chuck’s new pheromones hanging on him like a fresh blanket of snow. 

Raleigh has the decency to look guilty.

“Chuck’s gonna be fine, sir,” Yancy tells him, throwing his duffel over his shoulder and nodding to Raleigh, who falls into line next to him, silent. They already talked strategy on the plane. Yancy hopes Raleigh just sticks to it; he’s legitimately worried that Herc might beat the shit out of him when this is over. The older Ranger did not sound good on the phone, and Raleigh hadn’t helped matters by insisting it wasn’t a big deal. “Really, it’s not that bad...”

“Not that bad? Not that _bad_?” Herc growls. “You boys turned my son, my wife’s child, into a fucking...”

“Cum whore?” Raleigh chuckles, because of course, he has no filter.

Yancy punches his brother. “He’s nursing, kiddo. You should remember how mindless you got, those first couple of weeks.”

Herc groans. “Nursing? Fucking hell, Becket...”

“My brother and me, our mom was a succubus,” Raleigh explains, lowering his voice as they enter the ‘Dome. “We can only breed with humans. So you know, we grew up human, human food, all that, until about fourteen... and then, you know, same thing, with our dad. It’s like puberty, but way worse. Your body’s changing, your hormones are going crazy... and you know, you need your daddy's cum. Just the way it is.”

Herc glares at him. “He’s a goddamn hentai character!”

And Yancy can’t help but grin.

“Hentai, huh?”

“I am going to murder you both when this is over,” Herc grumbles.

+++++

Chuck rushes them, the second they’re inside the room. He’s naked and glowing and already well on his way to becoming one of them. The change is almost complete, and really, he’s gorgeous. Going to be a fine little incubus. Raleigh might have fucked up, but he couldn't have picked a more perfect boy if he'd done it on purpose. "Yancy barely catches him, the younger boy flinging himself into his arms, nuzzling his neck.

“Yancy!” he babbles, sweet and sultry at the same time, and oh gods, he is a sex kitten, isn’t he? “Yancy, I missed you!”

“Yeah, I missed you too, little bro,” Yancy replies, and lifts Chuck’s face up to meet his, holding firmly onto his chin to prevent him from stealing a kiss. He sends out a tendril of calm. The hormones are fun, but Chuck's got to get himself under control. Control's important. “Look at you, those cute little horns and that cute little tail.” He tugs on a little wing. “They’re adorable.”

“I love them! Love you!” Chuck hugs him tight. His cock is hard against Yancy’s belly, leaking a little. Poor kid. Probably hasn’t come since this thing started, and really, that’s the problem right there. 

Herc clears his throat, and Yancy looks over to see Raleigh trying to snuggle up to the older Ranger. “See what I mean? It’s like he’s had a personality transplant.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” Chuck says sarcastically, and butts his cheek against Yancy’s, whispering in his ear. “Daddy tastes really good.”

Yancy chuckles - because really, the kid is adorable when he’s high on hormones and Herc’s just going to have to deal with the fact that some things with his son are going to be _different_ now, even after they get him thinking straight again - and cuddles Chuck close. “I know, I know, sweetie. He’s delicious.”

Chuck giggles again, and clings tighter. Yancy looks over his shoulder to Herc. “How’s he been nursing? You producing enough semen?”

Herc blanches. “Nursing?”

“Yeah, nursing. He’s gonna need to keep feeding off you for a while yet.”

“I...” Herc stammers. “I thought you said you were going to fix him.”

Raleigh chuckles a little, and runs a hand up Chuck’s spine from behind, fingers rubbing up against the base of his wings. “It’s okay, sir,” he says. “Look at how much he wants you.”

“Mm, Daddy,” Chuck says, and giggles into Yancy’s shoulder.

Herc looks completely lost. Like it’s just now sinking in that he’s got a little incubus on his hands now, now and forever, and has no idea what to do with himself. There’s really no reasoning with him right now, but there are things that need to be done here. Yancy feels bad enough about this situation as it is; he’s not about to make it worse by mesmerizing Herc. No, he’s got to talk the man into it. Or trick him. Whatever works.

So he picks Chuck all the way up and carries him back into the bedroom, dropping him gently on the bed. Chuck giggles again, eyes bright as he scrambles towards the foot of the bed. “What’re we doin’, Yancy?”

Yancy smiles at him, and pulls off his shirt. “I’m gonna get you off, baby boy,” he tells him. “You’re learning how to take in all this lovely energy, but you gotta learn to let it out too.”

Chuck perks, pert ass lifting up, tail curling. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Yancy’s jeans join his shirt on the floor. He hasn’t bothered with underwear since he was about Chuck’s age, and the cooler air of the room feels good against his stiffening cock. He lets his tail drop down too; it’s not hard, keeping it in, but it’s always a relief when he doesn’t have to. It’s longer and thicker than Chuck’s, the perfect thing for caressing his little horns with. “You tried touching yourself yet, baby boy?”

“No,” Chuck purrs, and leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. “Should I?”

“Naw, doesn’t work for us,” Yancy tells him, and leans over him. He runs a hand into that bright red hair and pulls Chuck’s head back, so they’re looking at each other again. “An incubus, especially one as cute as you, always needs a partner to get off.”

“Like Daddy?” 

“Yeah, just like your daddy.” Yancy kneels up on the edge of the bed, sliding his knees up on the blankets, on either side of Chuck’s shoulders. 

Chuck pouts. “Daddy doesn’t like touching me.”

“Well, you’ve got your big brother, right here. And he loves touching you.”

Chuck giggles again, before tackling Yancy and dragging him down on the bed next with him, those Kwoon-trained muscles strong as ever. He head-butts Yancy’s chest, hugging him tight around the waist. “I like you being my big brother,” he whispers loudly.

Yancy rolls over on his back, pulling Chuck on top of him. Over the kid’s shoulder, he can see Herc in the other room, breathing hard, eyes wild. Raleigh’s got him sat down in a chair right now, leaning over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. The kid may look like an angel, but he’s got a filthy mouth. 

Herc’s gonna crack.

They always do.

“I like you being my little brother,” Yancy tells Chuck, and lets his tail drape around that very, very nice ass, the tip just teasing at Chuck’s hole. The kid squeals; he’s wet already. The pheromones are pouring off him in waves. How in the hell is Herc staying in that seat? “You like that, sweetie?”

“Ooh, Yancy...”

“You know, baby, our prostates are much more sensitive,” Yancy continues, petting those wings, working his tail gently in. Chuck thrusts back onto it, ass canting high, his tight little balls and leaking cock _fully_ on display now, whining. “Has your daddy shown you yet?”

“Huh?” 

“Has he fucked you, sweetie?”

“No.” 

“You want your daddy to fuck you?” Yancy 

“Y-Yes,” Chuck whines, eyes glazed, and drops his head to Yancy’s shoulder, fingers digging into Yancy’s arms. “Yes, please, Daddy, please...”

Chuck’s weight shifts then, and Yancy looks up, resisting the urge to grin in triumph.

It’s Herc. 

Herc, who looks incredibly, incredibly guilty, his big hands resting on Chuck’s hips.

Yancy twists his tail up inside Chuck, hitting that little pleasure button full on. Chuck practically sobs in response.

Herc swallows, hesitates, like he can’t figure out what the hell to do here, but there’s a bulge in his khakis that looks positively painful, and Chuck’s putting off a scent that no human could possibly resist. The restraint Herc is showing is admirable, but stupid, and completely unnecessary. 

Raleigh comes over, wrapping his arms around Herc’s waist and pulling him back around for a quick kiss. “C’mon, Daddy,” Yancy hears him murmurs, “can’t you see your little boy needs you?”

“Fucking hell...”

“Shh, we’ve got you,” Raleigh says, and nods at Yancy as he slides Herc’s zipper down, pulls his cock out, fingers teasing the sensitive flesh. “It should be you, Daddy, first one to take your little boy, take his virginity, come on...”

“Daddy,” Chuck whines again, twisting around in Yancy’s hold, back to chest now. His little tail is thrashing, and his feet fold up, knees high. “Daddy, Daddy please...”

Herc shrugs Raleigh off, that nice thick cock of his hanging free now, and leans forward, sparing a quick glare for Yancy, before giving Chuck a kiss. “Shh, baby, daddy’s here, daddy’s here...”

Chuck squeals again, as Herc sinks into him.

Yancy doesn’t bother pulling his tail out. Leaves it in there, still working that nub of Chuck’s prostate as Herc’s cock slides up inside next to him, and drops a hand to Chuck’s cock, jacking him slowly.

Herc thrusts exactly twice.

And Chuck comes hard, all over his belly, wings fluttering against Yancy’s chest.

Herc looks at Yancy, who’s cuddling Chuck as the kid moans, eyes shut. “Is that it?”

Yancy shakes his head, sliding his hand down Chuck’s still-hard cock. “Not til this goes down, Daddy. So come on, keep going.”

They wring five more orgasms out of him over the next three hours, his poor hole so open and abused by the time they're done that Yancy has to plug him up, just to keep Herc's cum inside. Chuck's completely passed out now, the incubus traits subsiding as the hormones ebb. Herc's equally exhausted, but at least some of that guilt has subsided.

"I love him, you know," Herc says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking the hair off Chuck's smooth, bare forehead. "I really do love him."

"I know you do."

"This... it's fucked up," Herc says helplessly.

Raleigh's in the bathroom, taking a shower, and Yancy's glad, because while Herc needs to hear this, he never wants his brother to know. "You know, our mom had to keep our dad locked down hard, after I hit puberty. When she died, I wasn't strong enough to keep him around, and he left. He didn't love us enough, to do this for us."

Herc looks at him. "So this is a thing, for... you people?"

"Yeah, who else but family can you trust during a time like this?" Yancy pets Chuck's shoulder. "He's so vulnerable right now, he needs the human who loves him most to take care of him."

Herc sighs, scooting a little closer to his son. "Nobody's going to accuse me of not taking care of my boy," he grunts.

Yancy stands, kissing Herc's cheek on the way. "You're allowed to enjoy it, too," he whispers, because he can feel that in Herc, a very real contentment at finally being able to connect to his son again. "Nobody's gonna fault you for that."

Herc shakes his head, but doesn't move away from the side of the bed. 

Yancy joins Raleigh in the shower.

And by the time the Beckets are done, dry, dressed and ready to go find themselves a proper dinner, Herc's asleep too. Cuddled in next to his son.

"I did good," Raleigh says with a big grin.

Yancy punches him, and follows it up with a kiss. "Yeah, kid, I think you did."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried!

Chuck wakes up, sticky and sore and not at all sure where he is. Everything’s a blur in his mind, nothing really clear in his memory, but this...

The hell?

It’s his bed, yeah, but it’s quite literally _covered_ in cum. There are stains everywhere, little wet pools of the stuff, and...

And it’s not as gross as it should be.

And how does he know it’s cum?

And... holy shit, it’s Raleigh Becket. Asleep. Right next to him.

Laying there, petrified and confused and more than a little horny - probably because it’s _Raleigh Becket_ , naked as he is ‘cept for a pair of little blue silk knickers, and the bloke smells amazing - Chuck tries to sort through this. He can’t rightly remember the last few days, a jumble of weird images where those memories should be. The last thing he can see clearly in his mind is Daddy bringing him back soup. Everything after that is all heat and hunger and bare skin and the thick heady aroma of...

Wait.

 _Daddy_?

“How you feeling, kiddo?”

Chuck starts, scrambling away from the source of that sound, but it accomplishes nothing; his back hits the wall. Nowhere to escape to, nowhere to escape from the smiling blond in front of him, his body is tired and his cock aches, and he just curls up in defeat.

“What do you want?” he moans into the crook of his arm.

There’s the sound of fabric shifting, and one of Raleigh’s hands finds its way to his back. Chuck wants to shrug him off, but the contact feels too good right now to just throw away. 

“Hey, hey, I know it’s hard, first time, but it gets easier.”

And oh, oh no. 

“Umm... we had a lot of sex, right?” 

“Yup.”

“I... it’s blurry.”

“Yeah, it was like that for me too, first time,” Raleigh agrees.

Chuck looks up. “What do you mean, first time?”

“You know,” Raleigh says, and _something_ pokes at his butt. “That.”

Chuck stares at him, a jumble of images assaulting his addled brain. Raleigh, between his legs, sucking him off. Yancy, kissing him. Daddy, Daddy stroking his face, telling him he was going to be okay, that he was going to be just fine, _Daddy has you, Daddy’s going to take care of you_...

Raleigh chuckles again, and pulls Chuck up against his shoulder. “I know it’s a lot. And I mean, I knew it was coming. You didn’t. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Chuck tries to think. He remembers a cell phone conversation, Daddy yelling at somebody... “Oh. You bit me. You bit me, right?”

“Yup.”

“And... so, wait, I’m... you’re... we’re incubi. Incubi are a real thing?”

“It’s not so bad,” Raleigh tells him, arm wrapped around his shoulder like they’re old friends. “You get all the sex you want, from whoever you want, whenever you want. I mean, like, you live on orgasm energy now, kiddo. Well, cum, essentially, for the first few months, but...”

Chuck sighs, stretching against Raleigh’s shoulder. “We all fucked?”

“Yup.”

“Even Daddy?” he asks, the words leaving his mouth before he gives them permission to, and there’s something about hearing them that makes it sink in.

Daddy. Herc. Herc’s always been Dad, his father, his co-pilot, the senior Ranger, the arsehole who pushes him hard in the Kwoon and tells him to take it to Medical when he’s feeling sick. But Daddy... Daddy took care of him, when he was burning up from that terrible fever. Daddy made him better. 

Chuck feels a little faint.

“Yeah, he fucked you. Took your virginity and everything.” Raleigh looks at him, grinning. “He’s so hot, your daddy.”

And sure, Chuck knows, he fucking knows, that there’s nothing right about that statement, it’s not something that’s okay, not at all, but... at the same time. “Yeah,” he agrees, and wishes Daddy was here with them now. “Yeah, he’s hot, mate. What’s your point?”

“My point is, sweetie, his cock is yours now,” Raleigh whispers in his ear, hot and sultry. “That nice big cock that made you is all yours. Cause he loves you so much.”

“Daddy doesn’t love me,” Chuck tries to protest, but just saying the words make him feel slightly ill, and what the hell has changed so much that that’s his reaction?

“Of course he does. And you love him. Trust me, Chuck, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been so far gone. But you knew you could trust him to catch you, and man, did he catch you.”

Chuck shivers, just thinking about it. And he shouldn’t want it, he shouldn’t, but he does. Fuck, he really, really does. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” And Raleigh nuzzles him, catlike, and his hands are gentle on Chuck’s shoulder. 

“So where is he, huh? Why isn’t he here?” Chuck doesn’t mean to whine, but hey, he’s entitled to it right now, isn’t he?

Raleigh kisses him. “Yancy took him to the mess hall to get something to eat. You’ve really taken it out of him the last few days.”

“Days?” Chuck asks incredulously.

“He’s still a little worried. Thinks he’s ruining his sweet baby boy.”

Chuck scoffs. “‘M not sweet. Or a baby.”

“Course not. We could show him, give him a little something to come back to.”

“How?”

Which is how he ends up on his hands and knees on the destroyed bed, facing out into the room, with Raleigh Becket behind him, licking his ass. It’s kind of a weird feeling, having his cheeks spread, the slow slide of that flat tongue, but at the same time, it’s pretty amazing.

“You know, we lube naturally back here,” Raleigh says, low and husky, in between passes. He presses his thumb against the whorl of Chuck’s hole; Chuck shudders. “Just like human girls do. And you never need any prep.” His tongue slides up again, wet heat spreading all the way up from the base of Chuck’s cock. “We’re made for pleasure.”

Chuck bites back a moan. “So shut up and get there.”

“Mmm, no. You gotta learn to prolong it,” Raleigh murmurs, and circles that little pucker of flesh for a moment, before rounding his tongue and pushing it in. Chuck can’t stop the moan this time. “Gotta learn how to drive them higher.”

Fingers digging into the mess of blankets, Chuck glances back over his shoulder. “Wh-Why?”

Raleigh winks at him, twisting two fingers into him slowly, all the way in. “The more you tease, the better the orgasm is.”

“O-oh.”

“Oh yeah,” Raleigh whispers, and brushes his fingers across Chuck’s prostate as he pulls them out. Chuck groans, and Raleigh chuckles, tongue diving in again, fingers digging into the meat of Chuck’s thighs.

Raleigh’s enthusiasm for this task is evidently, and those first few gentle touches turn out to just be that; gentle touches. It gives way, almost immediately, to deep thrusts and nibbles and cool breath on wet skin. Fingers slide in when the tongue pulls out, obscene squelching sounds speaking truth to Raleigh’s earlier pronouncement about incubus physiology. Chuck doesn’t even have time to be weirded out by that - it feels too good. His cock is hanging heavy between his legs, drooling into the already-ruined sheets, jerking right along to Raleigh’s ministrations, and it would be perfect, _perfect_ , if not for...

“It burns, Raaaay-leigh,” he groans, dropping his face to the sheets and his weight to his elbows, wriggling, trying to get away from that weird sensation building right above where Raleigh’s tongue is still buried in his ass.

“It’s just your tail, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Twisting loose from Raleigh’s hands, Chuck finds himself staring up at his daddy. His gorgeous, strong, wonderful daddy.

And sure, he can remember how he saw Daddy - Dad, Herc - before Raleigh bit him, but he can’t remember why. Because right now, having his father in front of him, looking at him like he’s something precious... it’s the most important thing in the world.

“I’ve got a tail?” he asks weakly, reaching out.

Daddy touches his cheek. “Yeah.”

“Does it do things?”

“Yancy says it’ll be like a third hand, once you figure it out.” Daddy pauses. “And you’ve got wings. And horns.”

“Horns? That’s ace!”

Daddy chuckles, and Chuck glances back, just in time to see Yancy pulling Raleigh off the bed by the hand. “Hey, wait...” he protests, but Daddy just shushes him.

“You’re fine, Charlie,” Yancy says, and elbows Raleigh, pulling him away. “The kid and I are going to go pay Marshall a visit.”

And Raleigh grabs Yancy’s sleeve excitedly, tugging a little. His chin is shiny with Chuck’s juices. “Isn’t the Marshall the guy who used to come to the strip club and...”

“Oh yeah.”

“Does he know it was you?”

Yancy winks at Chuck, hand on the door to the little bedroom. “Oh no. But if that taught me anything about the Marshall, it’s that he loves cock almost as much as you do.”

“Oh, so what about...”

“Hey, Herc, be careful with him!” Yancy says loudly, up over his brother’s rambling, and closes the door behind them.

So now they’re alone, Chuck and his daddy.

And Daddy doesn’t move for a few seconds. Just stands there, gazing down at him, like he’s trying to figure something out.

Chuck curls back.

“Raleigh said you don’t really want to touch me,” he pouts, sitting cross-legged on the sheets, sure he’s leaking into them. And sure, before this, he probably would have been embarrassed about acting like that, but fuck it. He’s an incubus now. Instincts and hormones and shit, right? “He says you’re thinking you’ll ruin me or some bullshit like that.”

“Language, son.”

“I’m an incubus! I can swear if I want!”

Daddy just fixes him with a look. “I’m your father, Charlie,” he says in that firm way of his. But it’s never sounded so gentle before. “If you need something, anything, I... fuck, I’d cut my heart out for you. You know that?”

Chuck really can feel himself flushing at that, and he tries to duck his head. “Daddy...”

But he’s silenced again. This time, by the sound of his zipper opening.

“Time for your brekkie, don’t you think baby?”

Chuck licks his lips, and reaches out, crawling back onto his hands and knees again. “Now that you mention it, I am kind of hungry.”

Daddy chuckles and shoves his khakis and boxers off, stepping out of them as he slides up on the bed and settles back against the wall. Legs open in clear invitation.

Chuck crawls forward.

The first taste of his cock is like heaven.

Or hell. Or whatever.

Even if he wasn’t some kind of demon now, Chuck’s pretty sure he’s going to hell for this.

But it’s just way too good to pass up.

“I love you, my boy,” Daddy murmurs, hands kneading Chuck’s hair.

“Love you too, Daddy,” Chuck replies and, utterly unashamed, swallows him down.

No gag reflex.

Oh yeah. This is great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not want this to turn into anything other than dirty porn. Unfortunately, there is less porn and more plot than I intended. Daaaaaaaaamnit. But the next chapter will probably be Raleigh and Yancy sexing up Stacker, so... yeah. 
> 
> In other news, my boyfriend got to see first-hand at the con this weekend why I do not go to cons by myself. I'm pretty sure he thought I was making it up.


	4. Chapter 4

This thing with Chuck...

Well.

It’s hardly the worst thing that’s happened to the boy over the past decade.

Herc has to admit, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to him, either.

Chuck’s the same as he’s always been, but he’s not. His personality is pretty much what it was before - smarmy arrogance, wit used as a weapon against people who piss him off, too smart for his own good - but it’s not coming from the same place. Because where there used to be a deep well of insecurity, all the pain that comes from being the smartest kid in class who can’t make friends, losing his mother before her time, there’s this... hell, Herc doesn’t know what it is, really.

Just that Chuck calls him Daddy now.

And he likes it.

He really, really likes it.

They’d had a relationship before, but it wasn’t exactly what a father and son should have been. Herc can admit to himself that he treated his boy more like a subordinate than a child, and Chuck, in return, treated him like a commanding officer. Interactions were grudging, conversations stilted, affection withheld.

Now, all that’s changed. Chuck might have hated him before, but since this happened, that’s all been washed away. Chuck doesn’t just want him, but needs him, craves his every touch, smiles every time Herc takes him in his arms or lays a hand on the back of his neck. The boy’s tactile in a way he’s never been before, even beyond the sex. And there’s a lot of sex.

It worries Herc. 

He shouldn’t be enjoying this. At all. Before this started up, fuck, he’d never so much as kissed another man. It’s not like he’s gay or like anything’s changed about him. he’s only doing it because Chuck needs him to; he's only aroused because of the pheromones. 

That’s all. Right?

Yancy’s position is that Chuck should eat as much as he can right now. Just from Herc, them, _family_ , for now, for the next few months, until everything settles fully and he’s gotten used to his new abilities.

“He’s going to practice on you, Herc,” Yancy warns him one afternoon, when Raleigh and Chuck have gone out to look at a problem in one of Striker’s systems, and the commander up at the Icebox has ordered his Rangers Becket back, the Breach possibly opening in a few weeks. “He won’t even know what he’s doing, so you have to walk him through it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I can, umm, help him out, plant some suggestions if you’d like.”

Herc resists the urge to shudder. “That hypnotization shit you blokes do?”

“Yeah?”

“Not a chance in hell, mate,” Herc tells him firmly - they’ve had this conversation twice already, and Herc has made _both_ Becket promise him that they are not going to fuck with his head again. Yancy bringing it up makes him want to punch something. “I’m fine. I just don’t know how the incubus thing works.”

“Okay, yeah. Look, I, uhh, I ordered something for you. Would have brought you a copy but it was on back-order. It should be here in a few days.”

“What?”

“Azazel’s Guide to Demonic Physiology.”

With a title like that, Herc half expects some ancient tome, skinned in human leather with little bone clasps that try to bite you, or some shit like that, Buffyverse style. But no. It looks like a normal book, matte white cover with that typeface so prevalent in the 1970s, a little set of horns on the first “A”. Yancy presents it with a little flourish, like this is somehow normal in his world.

Which, really, Herc supposes it is.

“This reads like New Age garbage,” Herc comments, after he’s had a chance to leaf through it.

“Well, yeah. You think there’s enough of our people running around that we have our own bookstores? Gotta doll it up with a bunch of feel-good bullshit for the human readership,” Yancy tells him. “I got that from Sedna’s Sea up here in Anchorage. It’s the local metaphysical shop.”

Herc closes his eyes briefly at the word _people_. Like there are really dozens of different types of supernatural creatures running around the world. The damn book even says vampires are real. “So what I am supposed to do with this?”

“Ignore the forward, and the first two chapters, and basically every single reference to the Freemasons and the Crusades. Everything else I edited for you.”

He flips forward, to the section on incubi again. There’s a lot of red pen here, but it’s mostly just Yancy crossing out certain words or phrases and replacing them with others. _Feed_ to _eat_. _Sexual ecstasy_ to _orgasm_. _Mother Goddess_ to _Lillith_ with the caveat of _oldest of our kind who’s still bouncing around, mostly in the Middle East, do not do the spell at the end to summon her, it will result in her turning up on your doorstep sooner or later, the massive bitch_. 

“Are incubi immortal?” He doesn’t want to think about Chuck outliving him by centuries. It hurts to even contemplate. 

“Not anymore. Blood’s gotten too thinned out. Lifespans are average human length now, we can get certain diseases, mostly just STDs, but...” Yancy stops, and Herc wonders if that’s what happened to his mother. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? We can only breed with humans, but doing so has weakened the magic.”

Magic. Holy hell.

Plus, Wikipedia says Lillith is a main baddie on that old shit teenage girl show, Supernatural. Or wait, no, ancient Jewish demon, possibly a pagan goddess, which, being the interpretation Yancy disagrees with...

“You lot really demons? Fire and brimstone and all that shit?”

“Err, sort of?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really want me to get into it, Herc?”

No. Herc doesn’t He’s got enough to worry about, keeping Chuck on the straight and level without wondering what’s happening to his immortal soul, or if he’s even got one, or if demons work the way they did in that Angel show - okay, so maybe he he had a crush on Fred back in his teenage years, didn’t everyone? - or what the hell else might going on. 

He decides to approach it like he’s approached everything else; control what he can, but only what he can.

Routine, Herc decides, is essential. The book says discipline is important for a young incubus; creatures of such primal appetites, they need to keep a firm grip on themselves in order to avoid turning rogue. It’s best learned from an external source.

(The book’s term is _rogue_ , Yancy’s crossed it out in favor of _batshit crazy_ and won’t explain exactly what that means. “Don’t let it happen,” is all he says, and Herc figures it’s another of those things he doesn’t want to know.) 

Routine, Herc can do.

He puts his plan into motion the first morning after Yancy gives him the book. Up until this point, Herc’s been loathe to force anything with his boy. Chuck’s mostly been curled up naked in his bed, hissing at the mere suggestion of clothing, and spending all the time he isn’t asleep locked in coitus with at least one of the Beckets or Herc. 

But the way Herc figures it, he’s not _Dad_ or _Old Man_ anymore. No, he’s far more than that now. Whether Chuck realizes the implication of the term _Daddy_ or now, the way Herc sees it, a daddy takes care of his boy. 

And the fucked-up part is that Herc can’t deny, not to himself, that the idea doesn’t appeal to him immensely. He’s spent so long unable to connect with his son. They’ve got a chance here to do it different, to be something different for each other, and if things have to change, Herc wants it to be for the better.

They’ve already got a routine. Normally, Herc gets up before Chuck does, stretches, dresses, does his morning run, and collects breakfast from the mess hall. The kid’s awake up when he gets back, all tousled and sleepy and grumpy. They’ll shower separately, eat separately, and go about their mornings separately, training and prepping for training and doing all the other myriad little duties that fill up a Ranger’s day.

This morning, Herc only gets one carton of food, and sets it aside on the table in their quarters that Chuck normally only uses for homework. He snatched a yoga pad from the gym on the way back up, and folds that into thirds, settling it on the floor beside his chair.

Then he goes to wake Chuck up.

The kid’s been sleeping a lot lately, and Herc takes a minute to take him in. He still looks like himself, but the airbrushed, touched-up, cover boy version of that self. It’s like all the little imperfections of his face and body have smoothed out, a subtle glow just under the skin, something artful about him, even his messy bed hair. 

He really is beautiful.

Herc wonders why he didn’t see it before, and then wonders why he’s wondering that. The only reason - the absolute only reason - they’re doing this is because of that idiot Becket kid.

“Breakfast time,” he announces in a voice that’s a little too loud.

Chuck’s eyes crack open, take him in for a second, and close again as he snuggles deeper into the sheets. “Piss off, ‘m tired,” he yawns.

Herc drags the covers off. “You’re getting up and eating breakfast,” he orders, a little more forcefully. “Right now.”

Chuck blinks at him, and scowls. It still takes a lot of effort for him to hold his new body in check; his tail is out, twitching against his bare, cute little belly. “Yeah, why?”

“Cause Daddy said so, that’s why,” Herc says firmly, and steps out of his sweaty running shorts.

Grudgingly, Chuck gets up.

Herc makes his son wait at his side - on the pad on the floor, for easier access - until he’s done with breakfast himself. He doesn’t rush himself but doesn’t linger, either, downing his food efficiently until there’s just a piece of toast left. It’s something about the way Chuck smells, maybe, or just the anticipation of having that sweet mouth so close to him, waiting for him, but Herc’s half-hard already and he can’t wait any longer. 

“C’mon then, son,” he says, and spreads his legs, patting his thigh. “Come get your brekkie.”

The boy doesn’t need any more permission than that. He scrambles forward, hands hooking around Herc’s thighs to practically pull himself into the space Herc’s created for him.

Yancy’s book says incubus saliva can both encourage and prolong an erection, but Herc’s not finding that to be true. In fact, he normally comes embarrassingly fast when Chuck sucks him down, but this morning, he wants to see about that. So when his balls hit Chuck’s chin, he pushes him back

“Easy there,” he tells his son, who’s whimpering and squirming between his legs, his cock engulfed in delicious heat. Herc strokes those nubby little horns, petting Chuck’s hair and neck, wiping tears away from his cheeks. “Nice and slow, nice and slow. Draw it out. Take your time.” 

With an obscene _pop_ , Chuck pulls the rest of the way off, shaking his head. “Jesus, I’m fucking hungry here...”

“And Daddy’s going to take care of you,” Herc interrupts, cutting him off. “You know I will. I give you what you need, though, you don’t take it for yourself, understand? And right now, you need to nurse, not gorge.”

Chuck’s face flushes with anger, yet he still nods. “Sorry, Daddy,” he says.

It’s the first time Herc’s heard anything like that out of him in years.

“It’s okay, baby boy. Keep going.”

Chuck’s far from a model of patience, but it’s at least enough time for Herc to finish his toast and drink his coffee.

He realizes, after it’s all done and Chuck’s cleaning the last of his spunk from his cock with little kitten-licks, that he sort of enjoyed that.

Herc feels guilty he doesn’t feel more guilty about that.

“Time for a shower, I think,” he announces when Chuck’s finally stopped, and his boy look up at him, obviously a little confused. “Chuck, go start it. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Chuck cocks his head, and then grins, clearly catching the meaning.

The water’s perfectly warm that morning, and Chuck hugs him so tightly when he gets in, Herc can’t wash himself. So he tells the boy if he’s going to be a nuisance he might as well make himself useful, and at the way Chuck nuzzles his armpit, licking into it as he gets the bodywash, Herc wonders if maybe he’s being played.

Whatever.

Feels nice.

He doesn’t let Chuck out of his sight that day. Technically, the kid’s still on bed rest, no official duties, so it’s easy for him to just shadow Herc through to the afternoon. He automatically curls up at his daddy’s feet, any time they’re alone, like he wants to go back to what they were doing before, where Herc was just giving him what he wanted, whenever he wanted, but they’re on Herc’s schedule today.

And today, He’s got a lunch meeting with Stacker. 

Considering the way Stacker’s been uncharacteristically happy, almost loopy, since he showed up at the Sydney ‘Dome a few days back, Herc doesn’t think it’s a good idea to let Chuck suck Daddy off under the table, the way he insists he should be allowed to do. Stacker’s deep under Yancy’s thrall - whatever the word is - and having an incubus actively feeding around him might be bad. Or something. Or hell, maybe HErc shouldn’t have to have lunch with his oldest living friend with his son nursing.

The brat’ll just have to wait. 

By mid-afternoon, though, Chuck is whining again, and Herc excuses them from the daily status briefing on Striker’s maintenance statues, saying Chuck still doesn’t feel well. The boy’s actually crying by the time Herc gets him into the private office he keeps for his own use, and he feels terrible.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs and sits down in the desk chair, opening his fly. “Daddy’s sorry for making you wait so long.”

Chuck all but inhales his second orgasm of the day - which is a weird feeling for Herc, being able to come this much, this often - and cries the rest of it out with his cheek on Herc’s knee.

“I hate this,” he hiccups in between sobs. “Got no... no control...not...not myself a-a-anymore..”

Herc pets his hair, kicking himself for eating lunch in the mess hall, like usual. He’ll have to change that up. “I know, sweetheart, I know how it feels. But don’t worry. Daddy’s going to get you through this. Daddy still loves you.”

His boy just can’t seem to stop sobbing though, and Herc, in desperation, pulls him up into his lap, shoves his trousers off, and sinks his cock up into his boy’s tight little hole. 

It was another of those things the book suggested.

Works like a charm.

Sobs turn to purrs, tears into giggles, and pretty soon, Chuck’s got the daily reports on Striker’s status in hand, stating what he thinks needs to be done to get their girl fully operational.

Bit odd to have that discussion with the boy warming his cock, but hey, Herc’s really not going to complain. He never could stand to see his son cry, but at the same time, he hasn’t seen his son cry since Angela died.

He’ll take it.

The Beckets invite themselves over for dinner, Yancy taking the position that Chuck needs the stability other incubi’s energy can provide, and Raleigh deciding that the best way to do that is tackle Chuck to the sofa and 69 with him.

Herc can’t take his eyes off of it. Especially not once Yancy saunters in, poking Herc with his tail as he goes, and ordering the two younger boys back to the bed.

Raleigh and Chuck tumble in, still kissing, pulling at each other’s clothes. Yancy, laughing, just pushes both of them down on the mattress and crawls up, slotting against Chuck’s back.

“Careful now, sweetie,” Yancy purrs in Chuck’s ear, stilling his movements a bit, even as Raleigh peppers his face and chest with kisses. “You wouldn’t want to make Daddy mad now, would you? He might not let you eat if you make him mad.”

Herc frowns, because the last thing he wants to do, especially after this afternoon, is starve his son, but Chuck just shakes his head, moaning. “No, no...hungry...”

“I know you are, Charlie. But ask your daddy first. Ask him how you get your supper.”

Chuck looks at him, hand out, pleading, vacant in that way he gets when he’s really aroused, instinct taking over completely. “Please, Daddy. Can I have dinner?”

Herc - despite all his resolve - freezes. Chuck’s looking at him, sure, but so are the Beckets, twin smiles nothing less than demonic, fangs out, Yancy’s arm curled around his boy’s waist and Raleigh’s hand against Chuck’s cheek, and it’s his _son_ being felt up by that pair of...

And then the confusion and the anger - at himself, at them - just stops. Fades to nothing, replaced immediately with a warm spread of arousal, a whisper in the back of his mind, a realization, _you need this as much as he does and it’s okay, it’s all okay, they want you so much_.

With a sigh of relief, Herc can let it go.

He can finally let it go.

And oh, does he know exactly what he wants. 

Herc goes back into the main room, grabs his chair, and drags it back, three pairs of eyes on him, and the attention, the way they’re looking at him, like he’s the only thing on Earth that matter, makes his dizzy.

“Charlie, listen to me, sweetie,” Herc orders, flipping the chair around right at the side of the bed and sitting down, legs spread, leaned forward, “your big brothers are gonna let you have their energy tonight, but you need to be a good boy for Daddy and earn it.”

He barely has time to register Yancy’s smug little smile before Chuck groans. “Shit, Daddy...”

“I wanna see you slide that cute little dick of yours into Raleigh’s cunt. Stay on your side, there’s a good boy, and Yancy’s going to fuck your ass, and they’re going to cum for you, okay? But you aren’t allowed to cum. Not yet, not until Daddy says you can.”

Chuck whines again, a sound that’s not human - it’s not, it’s just not, and that’s okay too - and tries to writhe away, even as Raleigh pulls Chuck’s leg over his own hip and Yancy presses a little closer behind him. The Beckets have obviously done this before, they’re too smooth at it, practiced, and it might have been pissing him off before, but right now, Herc doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter in his life.

“Daddy, I don’t wa... oh!”

Herc chuckles as Chuck’s head falls to Raleigh’s shoulder, their combined hands working him into position, Yancy already working his gigantic dick out of his pants and up their baby boy’s ass. He reaches over Raleigh’s shoulder to stroke Chuck’s cheek, feeling him go slack with pleasure when Raleigh takes him in.

“And when that’s over I’m going to pull them both off of you and sit you down in my lap and fuck you again and jerk you off,” Herc says, the words tumbling from his mouth as surely as Yancy’s rolling into Chuck and Raleigh’s grinding against him. “You won’t come until I tell you it’s okay, though, and your cute little cock is going to make such a mess on Daddy’s shirt. Gonna make you suck all that sweet sticky stuff out of the cloth, make you clean up Daddy’s cock with your fat little tongue, until the only thing you can taste is all that yummy cum.”

Chuck’s flushed, his face hot from the words and the contact, and he is beautiful, truly beautiful, when he’s lost to the pleasure like this, and Herc feels drunk on it. 

“Doesn’t that sound nice, sweetheart?” Herc rumbles quietly, softly, petting Chuck’s cheek. “Making your Daddy feel so very good?”

Chuck’s moan is all he needs to hear.

+++++

Herc’s not an idiot.

When he comes down from his climax, when Raleigh and Yancy have gotten themselves the hell out of his bed, when Chuck has burrowed, kitten-like, into Herc’s chest to immediately fall sleep, when Yancy’s the one in the chair, naked, cock getting a worshipful tongue-bath from Raleigh, Herc asks.

“You said _they_ , Yancy.”

Raleigh looks up at his brother questioningly, but Yancy just shakes his head and smiles disarmingly. “I didn’t say anything at all. You were doing all the talking tonight.”

Herc curls a protective arm around his sleeping boy’s shoulders, pulling the sheets back up with the other. “You know what I mean.”

Yancy’s quiet. Doesn’t say a goddamn thing.

It’s Raleigh who speaks. “If Yancy did something, he only did it to help. He never hurts anyone. It’s always about what the guy wants,” he protests quietly, sliding up next to his brother.

“I’m doing this to take care of my son,” Herc snaps at Raleigh, tired and hazy and angry, _angry_ , because Yancy promised he wouldn’t do that again, “not deal with your brother’s abandonment issues.”

Yancy just gives him a disbelieving look and stands. “And that’s that for tonight’s pillow talk,” he grumbles and goes for his jeans.

He leaves in a bit of a huff, Raleigh following at his heels, looking every inch the kicked puppy, but fuck them both, Herc thinks, and just curls tighter around his boy.

This is about keeping Chuck safe. Making sure Chuck knows he’s loved. Nothing else. There’s nothing else that matters.

+++++

Still, Herc feels vaguely guilty about it in the morning, and after breakfast - which is working out lovely - he heads by the VOQ to talk to them. But they’re not there, and he makes a few calls, and eventually, he’s passed on to LOCCENT up in Alaska.

They were supposed to be on the rotator flight to Hawaii in three days. 

According to Tendo, they’re on the manifest for Stacker’s return flight. 

“Left three hours ago, sir.”

Chuck shifts where he’s cuddled against Herc’s chest, eyes questioning as Herc hangs up the phone. “Oi, why’d you go and scare ‘em off, eh?”

A weird hollow forming in his stomach, Herc just shakes his head and cups his boy’s face. “We don’t need those bloody seppos.” He kisses him gently. “You’re my boy.”

“Hey! I like Yancy’s orgies!” Chuck grumbles.

But still, even with that, he’s smiling like he’s won something, and Herc kisses him again.

No, it’s not so bad at all, falling in love with his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herc's a bit of an asshole, what can I say?
> 
> Also, somebody asked for a one shot with the Kaidanovskies, which is a perfectly perfect idea and shall be written, but if there's anything else anyone would like to see, let me know!


End file.
